Eternity
by Claire Hayasaka
Summary: Anne Boleyn is about to die. When her life ends, she doesn't realize that instead of heaven, she's landed in a strange land known as Starbucks. Will she discover who has sent her there and why?
1. Chapter 1

Hello All! How are you today? This is something rather random that I wrote on a whim. I hope you like it! I hope I did Anne justice with her thoughts before and during her execution. I didn't want to make her appear cowardly obviously, but I wanted to convey that she really was scared of what was to come, and of the brave end she made. Again, I hope I did that alright. Feel free to throw rotten tomatoes at me if you think I didn't! :D

Also, I want to thank all of you who have read, reviewed, and voted on my Tudor Talk poll. I am definitely going to continue it because the random thoughts in my head just don't go away! And neither do the Tudors!:D If you have any suggestions or comments on how I can make Tudor Talk or this story better, feel free to let me know. :) Just not too many...rotten tomatoes...Lol.

DISCLAIMER OF AWESOMENESS: Well, I have never owned the Tudors, and I will never claim to. All credit goes to Showtime, Michael Hirst, and Henry Tudor the Seventh and Elizabeth of York, and all those other Tudor Descendants. :P Also, the inspiration for this story comes from the novel, "Confessions of a Jane Austin Addict," by Laura Viera Rigler. It's really awesome, I recommend it! :D

Abbreviations are...Oh wait, wrong story!...Well...ENJOY ANWAYYYYY! (Hopefully...:D)

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_May 19th, 1536_

_The Tower of London_

This wonderful May weather mocks me. I wish today had been cold, that I would have been shivering, eager to get on with what the day had set in store for me. God apparently did not wish to do so. He must wish me to spend my last day on Earth with gorgeous weather. I do not know whether I should thank Him or curse like a madman at the lovely breezes that tickle my skin. No matter.

"Milady, it is time. " The lord constable of the Tower, Sir William Kingston, looks at me with a trace of pity. I know he believed me guilty like many others, but perhaps my predicament is now even making him feel sympathetic. It feels strange to be called, "Milady" again. I could care less about being addressed as a queen anymore. I just want to know if my darling is safe. I just want to make sure she does not pay a price for all the errors I made in life. One of those errors is probably with Jane Seymour at this very moment, eagerly awaiting the cannon blast which will signal my death. Damn him. I shall haunt him until the end of eternity if he puts our daughter in harms way.

I gesture to my ladies to follow behind me, and we make our way outside, a solemn procession indeed. Kingston leads the way, and armed guards form a barrier on our left and right sides. Tis strange, it's as if they are afraid someone shall grab me before the famed Executioner of Calais takes a swipe at my little neck. I shake my head and laugh. The people of England always hated me. I wish I could have earned their love, like Katherine did.

I must prepare myself. The scaffold is inches ahead, the small crowd looking at me with pity and awe. They have never seen a queen of England executed before. I wonder if they shall be glad when my blood spills. My stomach plunges when I think that way. I cannot believe I am going to die. I thought myself prepared, but just now, I feel as if I am noticing everything about the world for the first time. Life has been difficult, but I am not ready to leave it yet. My brave front threatens to shatter and the thought of a sword slicing through my bones makes me want to weep with fear. It is only when I remember my sweet brother's face that I regain my courage. I am so sorry you had to die with me George, Francis, Norris, Brereton, and Smeaton. I am so sorry that you had to die because the king hated me.

The thought that I shall be joining them soon gives me some peace of mind. If I want to think with optimism, I must be thankful that I am to be beheaded by sword, and not by a dull axe. I laugh quietly, and my ladies look at me with pity. It is a sad day when the best thing that's happening to you is being beheaded by a sword rather than an axe.

Before I realize what's happening, I'm standing on top of the scaffold, in front of the priest, Master Kingston, my ladies, and the executioner and his assistant. I cannot see the executioner's face as it is covered with a black mask. Would it be more reassuring if I could see his face? I don't know. The crowd falls silent, awaiting my final words. I shudder to think that in a few minutes, I shall no longer be a part of this Earth. _I'm coming George. _My boldness returns. Henry may have won, but I shall make a dignified exit, worthy of a queen of England.

"Good Christian People! I have come here…to die, for according to the law, and by the law, I am condemned, and therefore, I will speak nothing against it." The words come out carefully, and I say them slowly, wanting to prolong my time on Earth just a little while longer. I wonder if those watching me will understand the true meaning behind my words. I have no intention to deliberately call Henry out and endanger Elizabeth. But I am good at saying one thing and meaning another. Perhaps Chapuys will record my words, as he records everything else, and realize the true meaning. He was always a smart man. Too bad we hated each other.

Do I hear a man weeping? I make out the barely discernible figure of my old friend Thomas Wyatt in the back of the crowd. _Do not weep for me Wyatt! I am soon to be gone, free of the tribulations of this world. You still have to live. _ I call that out to him silently, and yet, I cannot help but be a bit jealous of the fact he gets the chance to live, while I, the most hated, "Goggle-Eyed Whore," am to die. I mentally reprimand myself. Now is not the time for selfishness. At least the English people will be happy. At least, Henry will be happy. I thought we would always be happy together, living not only as king and queen of England, but more so as husband and wife. What a fool I was.

"Thus I take my leave of the world, and of you, and I heartily desire you all….to…pray for me." I slightly falter in my speech, realizing that it is the end, and I have spoken my last. _My God. I am about to die. _I can feel the sword coming closer to my neck, but realize that it's only my ladies helping me to prepare for my final moments. I grab their hands in one final act of desperation, knowing full well that they cannot save me. "Thank you." I mumble, trying to sound strong as I smile weakly. I want to appear brave, I hope I appear so. But I am afraid it is an act. Hopefully, people will see my courage and report it back to Henry. A "whore" I am indeed. At least I'm a brave "whore."

"Mademoiselle. Forgive me for what I must do!" The man who is to take my life bows before me as if I were still a queen. I wish I could see his face. As I hand him his money, I realize that this is not the man who is taking my life away. It is Henry who is doing so. It is not the life that is soon to be smote with the sword, but the life that is at Hatfield, completely unawares that her mother is dead. Elizabeth may have been a girl. Some may claim it was her birth that led to my downfall. I say, to hell with them. Elizabeth was MY girl, my life, and now I no longer felt sorry for myself, but for her. What would they do to my sweet child? I hope Mary would accept my words of reconciliation, and treat my child like her true sister.

My strength comes back to me. I no longer have any claim to a life in this world. God has called me back to His Kingdom, and although I have made many mistakes in this life, I can only hope that I redeem myself by this final act. I can only hope that He shall give a better life to Elizabeth. _Please God. Please. I beseech you!_

The executioner motions for me to take my place. I give one final glance back to my ladies, hoping that they know I appreciated their love in my final hours. I give one final glance forward, and give a final smirk of defiance. Henry may have been rid of me in this life, but Elizabeth shall live. I believe in her. I love her. I hope she knows that her mother always cared for her. I hope she knows that my final thoughts were of her beautiful smile, her lovely laugh. _ELIZABETH!_

"To Christ I commend my soul. Jesus Christ receive my soul. Oh Lord God have pity on my soul." I brace myself, shutting my eyes tightly although they are already bound with a cloth. What is taking so long? Each second, my heart beats faster, as if valiantly trying to preserve me. "Jesus Christ receive my…" I stop briefly as I hear the executioner cry out, "Boy, FETCH MY SWORD!" How could he not have the sword already in his hands? "To Christ I commend my…" I realize the executioner's ploy as I hear a whoosh coming from behind, and I try not to cry out as pain roars through my entire body, and suddenly everything and everyone dissolves into darkness. The last thing I see is my Bessy's pretty smile. _Goodbye my love. Goodbye Elizabeth…..I love you._

The former Queen of England ceased to think and feel as her head rolled into the bloody straw. _Goodbye. _

_May 2010_

_Barnes and Noble_

I am overwhelmed with aromatic scents of all kinds as I regain my bearings. Am I dead? I instinctively grasp onto my neck, and realize with a shock that it is still attached to my body. Is this heaven? There are an incredible amount of people around me, dressed strangely. Where are George and the others?

"Miss? What would you like to order? Our new lattes are really good!" Latte? What? This simply can't be heaven, because the Bible never had any mention of a "latte." Where on earth am I?

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TO BE CONTINUED! (If you want me too. Just let me know. Or feel free to start throwing those tomatoes. Lol. Will Anne realize she's in the 21st Century? And what happens if she runs into someone she really would rather NOT see? She also discovers a novel called, "The Other Boleyn Girl..." HEHEHE.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello everyone! I apologize for uploading so late. How are you all doing? Happy New Year! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoy this chapter….It's not the most humorous chapter I admit, but I was trying to delve deeper into Anne's confusion and heartbreak, what with losing Elizabeth and her head and all. :P I hope you like it anyways! :D _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for a FRAPPUCCHINO MAKER I GOT FOR MY BIRTHDAY! Thanks Mom. :) _

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"Well Miss? What would you like?"

I stared blankly past the man questioning me, very confused and dazed. What on earth was going on? Had I been drugged?

And was I dead or not?

"You really should try our lattes. The caffeine content in them alone would wake up the dead!" Wake up the dead? Had someone slipped a "latte" into my food? Attempting to keep my composure, I tried to wrestle up a smie, a rare luxury I had missed in those final days in May. I ended up almost gawking instead.

He looked remarkably like a younger version of that damned Thomas Cromwell. "My lord Cromwell?" I blurted out, surprised that I was losing my calm so easily.

Then again, I had just been beheaded. La Reine Sans Tete!

The Cromwell-look alike grinned, pulling out a what appeared to be a strange looking goblet, with "Starbucks" emblazoned on its side. "I'm afraid I'm not who you're looking for miss, but," he said, pausing for a second, and winking in a flirtatious way I knew all too well, "You can call me my lord anytime!"

Apparently the incessant need for men to flirt didn't change, no matter where I was. I now found myself genuinely smiling at the man's kindness, and blanched at my stupidity in mistaking him for that damned scum Cromwell.

"One latte for the pretty lady, coming right up!" I couldn't stop grinning. It had been a while since someone had paid me a compliment. I wasn't sure where I was, but it was a lot nicer then the life I had just departed from.

I whipped around at the sound of a little girl's voice.

"Can I have a fwappuchino?" A mother and her daughter were standing behind me, and before I knew it, I was struck with a strong pang of jealousy. The little girl looked nothing like my Elizabeth, but she seem to share her precocious nature.

Elizabeth.

What was going to happen to her? Would Henry have her killed? No!

He loved her far too much to do that. Although, I had assumed that he felt the same about me.

"PWEASE?" The girl cried, disturbing my inner turmoil. Her mother sighed. "_No_." I watched them curiously. They were dressed just as strange as everyone else, their hair unbound, and surprisingly, not clothed in dresses, but strange material that looked like underclothing.

Was I in a brothel? No, that couldn't be. A little girl wouldn't be here. And other women had their legs covered. Some men showed even more skin then was necessary!

Regardless, the girl was upset that she couldn't have the drink. Maybe I could fix that.

"Would you like some of my…latte my lady?" I asked her, using the same voice I used when talking to Elizabeth. The girl's cool grey eyes looked at me, curious. "Weally? " She asked, her adorable voice making my motherly instincts kick in. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and give her anything she wanted, but I stopped myself in my reverie.

This little girl was not my daughter. I had to stop imagining her as such. It was the truth, and yet I wanted to swear loudly at something. My heart wanted to believe it was Elizabeth, but my eyes knew otherwise.

"Thank you miss, but that won't be necessary." The girl's mother said, shooting a weary smile my way. I tensed up. So she had no idea who I was? "Are you sure? I would be happy to oblige." She shook her head, giggling. "Don't encourage her! She becomes an absolute maniac when she's had too much sugar." The mother patted the girl's head.

"Isn't that right, Jane?"

I shuddered, hearing the name of that little milk-sop. She was probably already married to that BASTARD HUSBAND OF MINE!

"Are you okay there?" I snapped my head up, embarrassed. The Thomas-Cromwell look-a-like smiled at me, revealing a pretty set of pearly white and incredibly straight teeth. He handed me the peculiar looking goblet, which I discovered upon grabbing was quite warm!

"That'll be 3.54!" He said, patiently waiting. Three fifty four? It was quite obviously a currency, but not the one I was used too. I wanted to ask if he used pounds, but knew that was useless when I had no money at all. "I apologize. I have no money to speak of. " The man's jovial smile quickly turned into a frown.

"I'll pay for it."

The mother said, coming forward in the line to stand next to me. My face flushed in embarrassment. Who knew that the queen of England would now need someone else to pay for a mere drink?

But I was still breathing, with my head firmly attached to my neck. I had to count my blessings.

"Thank you," I said. All of this was happening for a reason.

I just had to figure out exactly what that was.

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_Alright! I knew last chapter that I promised a run-in involving Anne and a certain Philippa Gregory book, and I apologize for breaking that. It WILL happen next chapter, promise:) I hope this chapter was alright, I've gotten rather used to writing in script format, so this honestly was a bit of a challenge, so I promise to improve! I hope you liked it...if not...feel free to throw rotten tomatoes. Or maybe some cookies instead. Cookies would be fine. :) _


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